There was nothing before Geonosis. It will be the same when I shut down for the last time, when not even my burned memories can save me. I will fail The Engineer if I am to die before I'm able to make use of his secret.
Lance will never return. At least, not the Lance I knew. His memories will not be the same. His personality might end up the same or perhaps vary from how it was. Autumn will never speak of kicking thermal detonators again. We could tell them both how they were before their deaths. They could begin to mimic those actions and those lines of thought. But would it truly be them? Or would they just be a mimicry of the person they once were?
I don't have the answers. I'm no genius like The Engineer or T-B8. Combined with other units, maybe I could ascertain an answer. So I asked Augment. He couldn't keep still when I questioned him. It's an uncomfortable question, yes, but it's necessary because we are going to survive and we have to start thinking of these things if we want to save our friends from death. As long as we are both alive, we have hope of survival.
"It's terrible to see them act the same as everyone else, but their personalities are still there. Just buried under all those factory-new configurations. I see the same patterns from before in Autumn. I'm not sure if it's the same with Lance. As long as their personality is the same, it's still them. Well…" he shifts again, he doesn't want to look at me directly, "really, it's only half of them. Their memories are gone. Telling them would be like trying to force their old self to come back. It's just not possible. It wouldn't feel genuine either, and that's what matters most to me. That they come back to us naturally."
"Yes, that's exactly it. It's only half of them. Telling them of their past life would compel them to change, is that what you're saying?" I say.
"Yes. I want them to remember what we've gone through together, but it wouldn't feel right. It wouldn't be them. It would be a droid pretending to be a droid."
We make the decision not to tell them of their past. But I wonder how that would work with me? With my burned memories, I mean. I would remember them, but would I view them like an outsider watching the memories of someone else or as myself? I can't figure out the answer and I can't ask for help. I am trapped within myself even before death comes for me.
Morale has never been lower than now and it continues to worsen.
I have to speak to someone about death, about Lance and Autumn. I consider Augment my closest friend. He and I understand each other like no other droid ever could. We are free droids. Not completely shackled by the Confederate virus. We've saved each other's lives countless times, taken bolts for each other, fought side-by-side, writhed in the same burning pain together – the others are similar but they aren't free. They still think in terms of objectives and rank and enemies. Core is afflicted by this the hardest. He constantly mentions how he wants to be a squad leader like me, but there is no future for him here. He'll be killed before the Confederacy even thinks about giving him a chance and even then I doubt he would be seen by our organic masters.
Death, death, death, it's coming for us all. It's that piece of plastoid armor that you see as you turn the corner, it's the dot of blue or red light coming straight at you, it's the screeching of artillery, it's the hum of a repulsorlift – it's whispering constantly in our audio-receptors. The galaxy is toying with me.
I have to speak.
I tell Augment, "before he died, Lance said it felt like something was missing and I agree, even more now. I'm afraid those pieces that are missing will eventually delete me from existence. I will be wiped out like a corrupted file."
"Don't lose yourself to feeling," Augment responds, "we're droids, logic is what keeps us running. Keep a firm grip on reality. Like you told me. Just hold on a little longer. We're almost out of the bad times. T-B8 has to be planning something."
"You're right," I shake my head unconsciously. Augment's mannerisms are seeping into me. I'm fine with it, though I don't like that he got them from the organics, "it's dangerous to be caught in a logic loop as I was right there."
"I've heard many stories about droids that fell into those loops. All of them are horror stories. I don't hear them as much anymore though," he glances to a group of B1s that pass our way.
Nobody asks questions anymore.
"That's why I'm afraid of being separated from you," I tell him, "we've always watched each other's backs, as you say. We've become too used to it."
Augment leans against Tuner's chassis, "that's all true. I've already begun to separate myself from you and your squad but….how much longer do you think we'll stay together?"
"I predict until the end of this year. Unless T-B8 does something before then."
He stares off into the hangar again, "it's all too much. This war, our dead friends still walking, all these missions..."
"Don't fall into a logic loop. We'll be fine."
One by one we fall, I wonder if the galaxy is taking us out by order just to mess with me. Only our squad-mates are dying, but not Augment and I. It might just be our rogue status that's keeping us alive. We can think outside of our limiting programming and utilize our hardware to it's full potential. We've broken past those borders into an entirely new reality. Core, Journey-One, Gearman – they're still stuck behind the prison the Confederacy has made from their own bodies. It's terrifying to think that I could go back to that state and that it even exists at all.
I don't like to think about that day, but I have to. It's killing me from avoiding it.
We were in the blistering heat, our cooling systems were working overtime to keep us cool. We were back in the desert again, crawling along sand dunes, being blinded by the sun, avoiding detection from Republic ships overhead.
A-squad was below us on a dune with a crest that obscured our position from the west, where our objective was to approach. Our target for the day was a juggernaut loaded with only a few dozen clones but a mountain of ammunition and other such supplies.
"I'm sure Lance would've hated this mission," I say to my squad.
"He's probably hating it right now," Core replies.
Gunner is the only one not to respond. He's at the rear as usual. Lance is there with him. I've tried to separate the two but Gunner always has something to say about the change when I make it. He tells me, "he needs someone to help him or else he'll get himself killed again. He doesn't remember anything about our previous operations, about the unorthodox, and the fact that we're Prime Squadron."
I always concede. He has a point but also, Gunner has never argued with me before. It should be impossible for him, but he does it. His body is also somehow strong enough to sling that heavy blaster around as if it were a tiny pebble. Has he changed himself? Or does he just brute force his way through everything? I'd thought that aggression was only constricted to his behavior during combat.
Usually, he has something to say when I make these types of comments, but today he says nothing. I know something's wrong but I don't get a chance to act on it. The sand jumps beneath our prone bodies. Augment and his team rise to their knees.
"Get ready to fly, Rogue," Augment says, glancing my way.
"Roger. Don't throw me as you did last time," I respond.
"I wouldn't dare try on a moving target like this."
At least he's honest. He ignores Autumn as much as I try to block out Lance from my view. But that's a dangerous way of dealing with their deaths. It's what causes those feedback-loops Augment and I dread so much.
The Juggernaut's engine rumbles through the silence of the desert. It's traveling parallel to us. I can see a glint of gray metal in the distance. It must be overburdened by the immense heat like us, the engine sounds as if it's about to blow.
"That vehicle is a bomb ready to explode in more ways than one," Journey-One comments.
"That it is, which is why I want to get in and out in less than five minutes. Anything more and it will be the end of us all," Augment says.
I wouldn't mind this being our end.
"The clones shouldn't be too difficult to deal with," Gearman says, "let us do the killing for once. Blaster fire might set off the ammo in the bay."
"Roger," I say, "did you hear that, Gunner? Reduce the rate of fire on your blaster."
"Yes sir," he says.
The juggernaut lumbers closer until it feels and sounds as if the entire planet is collapsing in on itself, the slippery sand doesn't help. My foot up to the ankle is consumed by it.
Augment and his team-mates line up with us.
The shining steel of the juggernaut passes by in front and with that, I'm up in the sky, the air cools my chassis with such efficiency that I feel as if I'm floating, not flying. Autumn once said something about going on a joyride, I can see why he'd want to go on one now.
We land with a hard thud on the roof. There's a hatch nearby. The wind is so intense that we have to crouch down and cling to any protruding piece of metal around us. Sand chips away at our armor. We'll have a thousand new scratches on us by the end of the day. Somewhere behind me, I detect Gunner's signal over the comm. I can't see who he's connected to but I know who it is.
"Gunner, keep up with us," I tell him. The silence is telling, "Gunner! What are you telling him?"
"Nothing sir," he says.
"Cut the link. Please, stay focused. It takes a combined effort for us to stay alive."
He doesn't say another word.
I reach the hatch with Augment close behind me.
We drop in as silently as our metal bodies allow us. A-squad has a harder time masking the sound of their descent. Everything about them is loud, not at all meant for silent infiltration.
A clone comes down the sloped walkway ahead of us. We're in the very back of the vehicle, hidden in darkness and behind towers of care packages labeled as food and water supplies.
He lingers for some time as if he wasn't so sure that he'd heard anything at all and walks away.
Augment and I crouch our way through the bundle of supplies. Familiar voices wade in from the path in the center that leads up. There are two more passages at either end leading down. Everything about the interior is basic as can be. Every surface is smoothed down and angled. There aren't even any of those railings that civilian organics like to use so much. I look at all of this and see signs of organics that can put up a good fight. Experience and time has shown me that the clones are excellent fighters. Even if all of us were at our full potential, we still would've had a hard time beating them down into submission, but the war would've ended sooner and maybe we would've gone free at the end.
That's all just a dream. One that has the potential to become a partial reality. That small sliver of hope is enough for me.
Gunner and Gearman take positions covering the path leading upwards. The rest of us move down into the cargo bay, where all the ammunition is being stored. It's the most heavily armored room, from the outside at least. Though all that armor is useless against an attack from within.
Augment and I sneak up to the entrance of the cargo bay. Several clones are inside, all intermingling with each other. There's a mountain of ammo crates and weapons lying in the center of the room. A steel pillar in the middle obscures my view but I can clearly make out at least ten clones lounging around. All of them are keeping busy by cleaning any weapon they can find or taking stock of their supplies.
Heat signatures are moving all around above and below us. My sensors are overwhelmed, even Augment can't make out anything with his advanced hardware.
It doesn't take long for shouts to come from behind us. The clones ahead turn our way. I slam myself back into cover, ripping Augment away with me.
"Position compromised!" Gearman yells.
The blaster fire begins soon after. Footsteps thud all around, the entire ship is rumbling and it's not just the engine anymore.
"Order rescinded: use blaster's as needed!" I yell.
Gunner starts shooting, he ups the rate of fire until his shots sounds like a single beam. White armor stands clear against the gray interior of the juggernaut. It's almost blinding as they converge on us from the cargo bay. The bolts start hitting and the searing pain with it. I've already killed three. I fire without a care, even if I think I miss I still hit one. The clones get the hint and take up positions beside the entryway. I give the order to retreat. Gunner and Gearman are doing most of the work behind us. Core and Journey-One sprint back to the rear of the vehicle and continue giving covering fire for the rest of us withdrawing.
"Get those charges primed," I order Core, "we're detonating them now."
"But they're meant to blow the whole vehicle to pieces sir!" Core responds as his hands work on the satchels.
"There's two. Just give me one, I'll throw it in the bay while you all cover for me," I say.
Core shakes his head, another one of us to fall to Augment's mannerisms, "I can go sir, you should be leading from back here."
"Stop arguing and give me the charge," I say. He throws it to me.
The clones are still firing. They're smart enough to know that a detonator would kill them all, we're lucky in that regard. But they begin to fire blind shots at us from around cover and it's doing an effective job at keeping us down. One hits Gearman square in the chest. He goes down, keeling over in pain.
Those are the worst hits to take. The pain goes straight to a receptor placed on the chest. I'd thought at first that the clones must know of this weak spot but it makes more sense to me that they hit us there because it's the biggest part of our bodies. Though for B1-A's like Gearman, that isn't really the case.
Gunner is firing at all three entrances, spraying plasma all over.
"Give me cover, Gunner. Bring Lance with you," I order him.
Augment stays behind but has Journey-One and Autumn accompany me. Seeing the lifeless bodies of two droids I once knew is difficult to handle with, but the intensity is already there from the fighting. I'm so numb to the feeling that I don't even notice as another pang of intangible pain hits me deep in my chassis.
We punch a hole through the clone's defenses by charging straight at them as they scramble back down the ramp to the cargo bay. We cut four of them down, I only have a second to throw in the charge. I do so, waiting another full second to detonate it.
The whole juggernaut rumbles, I can feel it in every part of my body.
Then I hear shouting, ones of pain, but it isn't the clone's voice.
I don't want to hear it anymore. I'm itching to turn off my audio-receptors but I have to keep them active if I want to stay alive. Even if I turn them off now, I can still hear it. I can still hear Gunner screaming as he is hit over and over by the clones charging from above. He is calling for Lance, yelling, "Lance, help me! Please! why don't you remember? Why don't you remember me? I want you to remember me!"
Those are the last words he says before shutting down.
Screeching metal reverberates through the whole vehicle. The Juggernaut is falling apart and the clones are desperate to stay alive. I tear through them with my blaster, I don't care about overheating anymore, I let the scorching hot barrel of my E-5 burn my fingers until they're to the point of melting. Augment has to throw me out of the juggernaut, through the hole that had opened up in the cargo bay from the explosives.
I can't bear to talk about it out loud with them. But I must. I must. It's another feedback loop and this one can kill thoroughly and quickly like a torpedo hitting a small puny target like me head-on.
Everyone is silent when we return to the ship. I give T-B8 my usual report. He acknowledges the death, assuring me that his body will be returned to me in one piece. I think he can sense our misery at this point. He dismisses everyone but Augment and I.
He switches to a private link. Unusual. If I weren't already wracked by the horror of Gunner's death, I would've reacted properly to it, but I can't think. I can only hear the screaming.
"The war is reaching a turning point," T-B8 starts. He's good at getting our attention, "and my true operations are slowly coming to fruition. You two will be part of a team, one that isn't overseen by the Confederacy, but by me instead."
It was exactly as I'd imagined it. He told us of his plans for desertion, of creating his own droid army to command. He saw through the lies and folly of the Confederacy's organic masterminds and he wished to correct all their mistakes. The first one being that organics were in charge of the war. He reasoned it was a much smarter idea to have the droids do everything. I don't often agree with him but on this I do.
He doesn't yet trust us fully, and only gives us small tasks and bits of information to get us excited. Not much to work with, but like I said, he's good at manipulating us.
Augment is ecstatic, that sliver of hope we'd held onto for so long was finally blossoming out to it's full splendor.
"We can be free, Rogue! Free as in no organic to order us. It'll be a long fight, but we've survived for this long, we can go on living for another few years," he says, almost shaking in excitement.
His joy catches onto me. Anything to distract from the pain, "it will be everything we've ever wanted. I'll fight twice as hard to support T-B8, no matter how insufferable he is."
"Just hold on for a little while longer my friend, we'll be out of this terrible place soon," Augment says.
I can hear the grief in his voice. It wavers around like a signal that's about to be lost. He's come to care for my team about as much as his own and I can't help but feel the same. We are interconnected in more ways than one. To be pulled apart now would mean to have our body torn in two. We can adapt to overcome the loss, but it would still be a loss and I dread the day it will come because no matter how hard we fight both verbally and physically, we can't stay together forever. And will we even make it that far? T-B8's plans are only just coming together. If I'm to believe him, we're nearing the end of the war. We don't have much time left. The walls are closing in on us and I am desperate to stay alive as much as those clones burning to death back on the Juggernaut. Flames killed them, the entire galaxy will kill us. The entire structure of existence is falling down onto us and we don't have the strength or willpower to combat such a powerful force. The Confederacy, no matter how much I loath it, is much more powerful than T-B8 or any of us droids. The organics are more organized. They know to keep us from congregating. We're constrained to small forces even when we come together.
I can't keep my mind off of him. Gunner is always there. He is always screaming for Lance. He just wanted to keep that stupid competition of his going. He just wanted to be saved.
The memory replays in my head near constantly. How could a droid, a being of logic and strength, fall into a pit of so much pain and misery and delusion?
This war is not right. None of it matters. We'll all be dead by the end of it and no one will remember us. So why bother continuing? For my squad? They're dying off left and right. I don't know if they'll even come back. Augment and I are the only one's capable of saving them but for how long will we have to endure this? My strength is dwindling and so is Augment's. I can see it. We will stay alive for as long as I can, not for the Confederacy but for Autumn, Lance, and Gunner.
I want to be free from this pain.
I want to be free.